


Making The Best of a Snow Day

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Smut, or is it smutty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Interestingly enough, you get cold more easily than Karkat, but you enjoy the winter weather much more than he does. Maybe it's because the chill brings with it the promise of a fresh start next year, when the snow melts and the flowers bloom. You know that winter has it's own charm, while Karkat... is a bit different. </p><p>Karkat doesn't know the <i>definition</i> of the word charm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making The Best of a Snow Day

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first smut i ever wrote. anne beta'd it for me and i posted it on tumblr a few months back, and for some reason everyone liked it so i'm posting it here. have fun with it, you horny fucks.

The snow came without warning last night, silently covering everything in a chilly white blanket. By the time morning comes and you look out the window, the fluffy white flakes have finished their descent from the clouds to the yard in front of your house. As the first snow day of the year, it seems to herald the true arrival of winter.

This is cause for much excitement from you and much complaining from your boyfriend. "Great, now I'm gonna have to shovel a path through a fucking _wall_ of snow. And in addition to that, I'll have to get it off the driveway at some point, too. Ugh, I bet the car is buried in a mound of fluffy white 'fuck you' courtesy of Mother Nature."

You roll your eyes at him, tugging on your snow boots. "Lighten up, Kar, you're being a drama queen. Look, it's not even that bad! Less than a foot." Zipping up your coat, you head for the door. "Come on, you big baby."

He continues grumbling under his breath as you both walk outside. You inhale deeply, the cold air stinging your nostrils and biting your skin. Your breath creates little foggy clouds in front of you that soon float away. You puff your cheeks out and force the air from your mouth, imitating the growl of a dragon. 

Karkat rolls his eyes at you, tromping over to the driveway and opening the garage door. You frown. "Where are you going?"

"The garage, to get a shovel. Might as well get started on this shit."

You scoff at him and head straight for the snow. Your feet sink an inch or two as you step off of the porch stairs and onto the lawn.

Interestingly enough, you get cold more easily than Karkat, but you enjoy the winter weather much more than he does. Maybe it's because the chill brings with it the promise of a fresh start next year, when the snow melts and the flowers bloom. You know that winter has its own charm, while Karkat… is a bit different. 

Karkat doesn't know the _definition_ of the word "charm". 

After making what you deem the perfect snow angel, you set to work building a snowman, idly watching Karkat as you do so. He's quietly cursing as he tries to force his shovel under the thick layer of snow on the pavement, then struggles tossing the heavy load off to the side. He must hear you giggling, because he stops and turns to glare at you. "You know, any help you could offer at this point would be great." 

You smirk. "What's the matter, snow too heavy for you?" 

He splutters a defensive, "No!" as you continue to laugh. "Ugh, whatever. I don't need your help anyway." 

"Hey, c'mon, don't be like that. You don't even have to worry about getting rid of the snow right now, why don't you just try to relax and enjoy it?"

"Because there's nothing fun about rolling around like an idiot in nature's slushie. It's cold and wet and a waste of my time," he gripes. 

You crush a handful of snow in your palm, offended. "Not as much of a waste of time as trying to shovel all that fresh snow before the sun's out," you retort. "In fact, it looks like it might snow again, there are dark clouds overhead."

He throws the shovel down in frustration. "You know what? Fine, smartass. I'll just go inside, where it's warm and dry." With that, he turns on his heel and starts to stomp back to the house. 

"Fine!" you shout defiantly, "I can have all the fun I want without you!" 

"Fine!" 

"Fine!" 

And with that, the front door slams, leaving you alone. A shiver runs down your spine as an icy wind blows over you. Feeling frustration well up inside you, you bend down to scoop the snow at your feet into a ball, then lob it at the house as hard as you can. 

After a few minutes and several deep breaths, you've calmed down enough to think straight. You plop down on the ground with a heavy sigh and begin idly scraping the snow in front of you into a pile. 

Karkat is difficult. You've known this since you started dating him. He's short-tempered and stubborn and is always finding the dumbest things to argue about. You should have learned by now that there's no point in fighting him, but you're just as headstrong as he is, so you dig your heels in every time and blatantly refuse to back down. 

In the end, it's a matter of who comes crawling back first, offering guilty apologies and hopeful kisses. It depends on the cause and severity of the argument; you can't say who caves the most often. This time, though, you're tempted to. Your squabble was stupid, anyway. 

You pretend not to hear the quiet creak of the front door opening, or the crunching footsteps behind you. A pair of warm arms wrap themselves around you and a fuzzy head buries itself in your shoulder. "Sorry..." Karkat mumbles into the fabric. 

You reach up to awkwardly pat his arm. "S'okay." 

There are a few minutes of content silence as he relaxes before you suddenly stand up, grabbing and pulling him up with you. You grin at his confused expression. 

"Let's build a snowman."

~~~

You both stumble into your living room, laughing and playfully shoving each other. This is probably the happiest you've seen him in a while, you realize.

"Okay, but you have to admit, it did kinda look like you." 

"It did not!" he wheezes, shaking off his hat and scarf. "All you did was draw a pissed-off face on it!" 

"Exactly!" you cackle, sticking your tongue out at him. You start shedding your unnecessary outerwear, shaking the moisture off of the surface.

"Careful, I think I'd get arrested if anyone found out I'm actually dating a six-year-old," he jokes. He grabs a lighter off of the hearth and kneels down in front of the fireplace to start a fire. 

"Oh, har har, you're hilarious." You huddle further into your sweater and sit down beside Karkat as the logs shoot sparks before bursting into small flames.

"So I've heard." He scoots closer to you so that your shoulders are pressed together. You gratefully drink in the warmth radiating from both him and the fire.

You feel a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. "We're so fucking stupid." 

"Yeah," he agrees. 

With a burst of spontaneous affection, you suddenly decide to wrap your arms around him and lean into him with your full weight. He rolls backward with a grunt, clutching you close to him. "What?"

You lay on top of him, burying your face in his chest. "You smell nice. And you're really warm." 

It's hard to tell whether the pink in his cheeks is because of the fading cold or because of you. "Yeah, well. We're in front of a fire, in case you hadn't noticed." 

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I had," you snicker. "Or maybe my natural hotness is just starting to rub off on you."

He scoffs. "Wouldn't that be nice." 

You roll your eyes and laugh, "Oh, come here," leaning up to kiss him. 

His lips are chapped rough from the weather, but warm and sweet as he is. You'd only meant to give him a short, chaste kiss, but that's a lot easier said than done. You think for a second that you'd be perfectly happy just lying here forever with him in front of the fire. 

Then, his hands start to wander and you decide that it's not enough. You pull away from him to sit up and tug gently on his sweater. "Hey... what do you say we heat this place up a little more?"

"Dork," he comments, but you revel in how his face turns even redder. His touches become gentler, more purposeful. He slips his hands underneath your top and you help him remove it, tossing it to the side and diving back into him. You don't fail to notice the way he groans softly every time you squirm in his lap, so you take it upon yourself to grind into him slowly, teasing him. 

He swears at that and grabs you by the hair, leaning down to scrape his teeth along your neck. You chuckle breathlessly, your fists tightening in his sweater. "Something the matter?" 

He huffs. "Yeah. You're still wearing pants." 

You let out a sharp cackle at that and clamber off of him, wriggling out of your sweats. He does the same, kicking his away and tackling you onto the carpet, attacking you with affectionate kisses and nips. You squeal and kick at him, laughing even harder when he blows warm air onto your skin. "Quit it, that tickles!"

"Good," he quips, kissing along your collarbone. Your breath hitches as he trails his fingers down your body, sliding them past the waistband of your underwear. He smiles down at you smugly, his fingers pressing into you. "Something the matter?" he mimics mockingly. 

"Yeah," you reply, breathing heavily. "You're still talking. Shut up and fuck me."

He snorts and helps you shimmy out of your boxers. Of course, the first thing he does when he positions himself is tease you, rubbing you steadily. You let out a low growl of warning, your nails digging into his back, but he just laughs quietly into your skin before gently pushing himself forward and filling you up. 

You hum happily and roll with him, nuzzling into his shoulder and pressing fleeting kisses to his neck. You can feel his heart pounding and his erratic, labored breath hot on your cheek. He pumps his hips easily, steady with experience, and places a hand on your hip to pull you flush onto him. 

You sigh and tremble and hook your legs over his waist, feeling him shudder above you. You feel glued to him, sticky with sweat and heat and dizzy with lust. It's wonderful, _he's_ wonderful, and at this point you can't even begin to imagine why you ever even argue with him, because being with him like this is so much better. 

You can feel your core's temperature rising, getting dangerously close to the boiling point. "Karkat," you implore shakily, squeezing him insistently. He nods and rests his forehead against yours, picking up his pace. You take the opportunity to study him: the way his brow is furrowed in concentration, his teeth sunken into his lower lip, his eyes tightly shut and his skin shiny with sweat. He's completely absorbed in you, all his effort focused on making you feel loved, and you can't help but love him back with every damn fiber of your being. 

Your focus is shifted abruptly as his hand moves from your hip to your thigh, then your lower abdomen, pressing and rolling your skin between his fingertips. 

It's too much. Your head rolls back and you arch, legs shaking and toes curling. You can hear your voice mingle with his as he follows you, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his cries. 

Your breathing slows as you finish and he detaches his mouth from you. You can feel your pulse racing and hear your quick, shallow pants melding with his. He pulls out but doesn't let go of you as he rolls onto his side, exhausted. You curl into him and clutch him tighter, still trying to catch your breath. 

You're the first one to gather your thoughts and rewire your brain to your tongue. "... Well, now it's too hot." 

His sides shake with silent, spent laughter. "Shut up." 

You decide to do as he says for now because for once, you're too tired to ruin the moment.


End file.
